


Adlocktober Prompts

by Adlocked



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M, adlocktober prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-29
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2018-09-03 00:20:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8689348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adlocked/pseuds/Adlocked





	1. Day One

She was in the park when she felt his eyes on her; boring a hole into the back of his skull. It sounded false, she knew that; how could she know who's gaze was watching her? But there was an inexplicable certainty that ran through her whenever his eyes ran over her that she could feel every time. A sort of safe feeling that gave her a slight bit of peace that she wasn't in danger for the day.

 

His gaze stayed on her as she stood up a half hour later, leaving the newspaper she had been perusing through before he started watching her on the bench. She took her time fixing the purple button down that had wrinkled slightly, wanting to savour the knowledge he cared just enough to watch over her even know, before she headed down the sidewalk.

London was beautiful in the fall; something she had missed while in America. All the variations of oranges and reds and browns and yellows warmed her up as she headed down the street; away from his lingering gaze. No matter how much she desired it, she couldn't return it. Couldn't even acknowledge it. Because if she did, he might stop. And she couldn't let that happen. So she hailed a cab and let it take her away.

 

~~~~~~

 

It was the soft clearing of a throat that awoke him from his mind palace that day. The rain, mixed with his roommate's absence, gave the perfect atmosphere to-Were those candles he smelled? The rate at which he stood up caused his heart to be faster as he came to consensus that someone had broken into his flat. A woman judging by the perfume.

"How long have you been standing there?" He asked as he headed over to his desk to make sure nothing of importance was missing.

"Longer than you'd like." Her tone was gentle and yet he could tell she was amused with him.

Damn her.

"You shouldn't be here." This visit, this addiction, was risking everything he had done to keep her safe; keep her alive. And while he could say it all he wanted, he knew he wouldn't, couldn't, tell her to leave. At best all he could do was remind them both that this attraction was deadly.

"Tell me to leave then."

"Irene-"

"Look at me."

"Irene-"

"Mister Holmes..."

He sighed and slammed the drawer shut; phone rattling inside. Slowly he turned and looked at The Woman, taking in everything he could. She had bleached her hair and it was cut into a bob that was just above her shoulders. Her face was fuller, meaning she gained weight and there was a new wrinkle; probably from the stress this new life was putting on her.

"-Sherlock." Somehow during his examination she had managed to move mere inches away from him; one of her hands on his cheek.

"Hmm?" The noise left his throat as he registered just how close she was, that she was actually touching him. For the past two years, it had been purely looking. Glances and words but never anything more. And it was never enough.

There was something about the feel of her fingertips brushing over his cheekbones that could beat all most any high he could get from any narcotics. And with their lives being what they were, he could count the number of times they had touched on one hand. It was intoxicating and something about it's rarity made all the more blissful.

"Tell me to leave." She whispered and he could feel her breath on his chest from where his pyjama shirt was unbuttoned.

The game was over for now.

They both knew who won as soon as his fingers wrapped around her wrist and found her pulse.

He leaned down and pressed his lips against her ear, watching her skin rippled and form goosebumps as he whispered, "Stay."


	2. Chapter 2

Fall seemed to linger this year.

The dull orange leaves refused to fall from the towering trees even as December drew nearer and nearer. Had Sherlock been a different man, he might have considered it a sign from some deity to take a chance; to be daring.

But Sherlock wasn't a different man so the lack of leaves falling merely annoyed him.

He was sitting on a park bench, watching John and Mary from a distance as they walked around the park, when she joined him.

"This is dangerous, Miss Adler." He remarked as his hand moved from his lap to rest on the wood between them so that she could slip him the final piece of the puzzle.

Silence filled the air as he felt her soft skin brush against her before feeling his fingers curl around his. It took him a moment to recognize it but eventually it clicked that she was holding his hand.

Not usually one for physical contact, Sherlock stilled at her touch for a few moments as he adjusted to this new sensation and found it wasn't too unpleasant. Perhaps one day he might even enjoy such a mundane thing as holding hands. Perhaps one day they wouldn't hold hands as a cover for passing notes. Perhaps one day, they could even have a full conversation again.

But today wasn't that day.

After a minute or two, her hand slipped through his and she was standing up, her back still to his.

He dropped the paper in his pocket before he stood up and watched her.

"Irene, look at me." Sherlock murmured, feeling the sentiment that weakened his heart when it came to her bubble up in his chest. He'd always believed that the saying, 'absence makes the heart grow fonder' was pure nonsense. That such a thing was just foolish wishing and prepubescent hormones. But when it came to The Woman, his woman, he couldn't help but realise just how true it was.

The longer he spent away from her, the more he wanted to stay with her.

Slowly she turned and stared at him; her hands twitching with something he could only dream was the desire to hold his yet again.

She never spoke, never made a sound, but the look in her eyes told him exactly what was about to happen.

And so he nodded and stepped back, letting her walk away without another word.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

He passed her the fag he'd been smoking moments before, watching as her lips curved and the smoke furled out of her nose moments later as she took her share.

Smoking after their exploits had become something of a tradition between the two that neither were rather keen on giving up and so there they were, curled up on the hotel's armchair passing the cigarette back and forth.

There were other spots for the two to sit but Irene didn't seem to notice for as soon as she got out of the shower, she took her spot on his lap like a Queen claiming her throne.

Not that either of them really minded.

"I'll need to leave soon." Irene murmured as she passed the cigarette back to him and rested her head on his shoulder.

"You could always stay." He reminded her as he took the final drag and put it out on the arm rest of the chair.

His voice brought back memories of dark rooms and broken bones. The last time she stayed... He had almost died.

And as much as she wanted to stay and enjoy whatever it was that they had right now, his life was far more important to her.

So she settled for kissing him one last time before standing up and getting dressed.

"Goodbye, Mr. Holmes."


End file.
